The Journal
by Kira-is-on-Drugs
Summary: An account of the horrors Luigi suffered during his time in DImentio's prison. Slightly based off of Yelinna's "The Ultamite Show." Rated M for unrealistic torture.
1. Chapter 1

Day 1

_**My name is Luigi.**_

_It feels appropriate to start with that. After all, isn't that what everyone starts their journals with? My name is blank, and this is my story? That's how it is in all the books, after all…_

_Well, my name is Luigi, and I woke up in this cell a few hours ago, I think. It's dark in here- I can barely see my hand in front of my hand, but I can see the pages of this journal easily. I suppose it's some sort of magic that Dimentio put on it._

_Oh yeah. Dimentio is the one who gave me this. He walked in here a few minutes after I woke up.  
'Master of Dimensions, Pleaser of Crowds, I am, Dimentio!" He introduced himself, and he bowed too. He's a magician too, he told me. 'Master Magician. I am but the humble servant of a count. 'He laughed as he said that, like it was a joke. _

_I can remember every word he said. His voice is awful to listen to, but I hung on to every word. _

_"The count made you an offer you couldn't refuse at the meal we had in your honour. You said no. But you are wrong. There is no choice. The only choice is that you could join us willingly and fulfil your manifest destiny as the Man in Green, the one who is the bridge between Order and Chaos. Else, we may have to find ways to persuade you to collaborate with us in the end." _

_He wore a mask the entire time- the right side was black, and the other was white. A red grin was painted on it. I could see his eyes through two crescent shaped holes, and they were different- one was glazed and a dull black, while the other looked like it was glowing yellow. I couldn't see a pupil in it- the entire iris was completely gold.  
He was wearing a cloak-like thing. It was made of purple and yellow strips, and the ends were pointed on it. I think it was meant to be a cape, but it looked more like a poncho with the front open. _

_He looked like a clown at the circus. _

"Fo yo_u, my green friend, are a part of my marvellous plan, a pawn, in its great making." He giggled to himself, and held up small, oval-shaped thing, pinching it between his fingers. _

"_A Floro Sprout seed, man in green. It is painless, I assure you." He laughed. " It will allow me to control you, and use you to your full potential. "_

_I immediately said no, and Dimentio smiled._

"_A pity. " He said, and giggled at the end of his words. "I will need to think of other methods to get you onside. You have no choice. It would be easier for to you accept it now"._

_He snapped his fingers and this appeared. He said that I could write in it, if I wanted to- it would help me last longer, he said, wagging his finger at me, and grinning. Last longer than what? Those words... it felt like ice had formed in my stomach._

_His last words were, "This is day one. I have left you a pen, but don't worry you shall be able to write in this journal even without one." He giggled, like it was some sort of private joke, then left. Whatever was keeping it so bright in here just flicked off, and left me in this darkness. _

_All I can remember before this is some sort of wedding. . . Bowser and Princess Peach. There was a blue-skinned man in a white cloak, and a young woman-she was blue too, with a white shirt and a pair of tinted glasses. I can't tell if it's a dream or not, but I might as well think of it as real; I have no reason not to. _

_I found this pen inside the cover, and that's what I'm using to write with. I haven't a clue what's going on here. I don't like writing in this journal- he's probably going to read everything. But I'm here, writing in it anyway...  
There's a certain comfort in writing. Sometimes you have to get your thoughts out on paper. Bad things can happen if they stay in your head._

OoO

**Word Count: 747. **

**This is a little practice thing I wrote a while back to help me write first person. Chapter Length is going to flucuate, but I'll try to update every other day.  
Again, just for practice, so I'd appreciate any tips you have to give me.**

**Have a nice day! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

_Day 7_

_Every day, he comes in here, and asks the same question;" Will you take the seed?" And every day, I say no. He laughs in that mocking way of his, tells me the day, and leaves. I shout questions at him, but he always ignores them.  
He's stopped wearing his mask. I wish he'd put it back on- He looks like a normal guy, but he has an awful smile, and he never stops smiling. __Never__. I haven't seen him frown yet, and there's deep lines around his eyes too. I wonder if he actually never stops. . ._

_Oh, and I found out that he's not reading the journal. I remembered an old trick to see if some one's going through your stuff- tape a thin line of thread over your drawers, books, or whatever, wait a few days, then go back and see if the thread broke. I don't have any thread, or tape, so I plucked a few hairs from my head, tied them together- it took a long time, my fingers kept slipping- and slid it around this journal. I moved it around each day, so he'd think I've been using it. It's been over a week, and the hair strand still isn't broken. _

_It's funny- I used to do that a lot when I was a kid, tape pieces of thread on my drawers, and books and stuff. Mario liked to steal my things and then tell me I must of lost it when I asked._

_._

_._

_._

_I miss him._

_._

_._

_._

_I keep thinking about that stupid seed. Why do I have to swallow it? What exactly does it do__?__ It can't be that important, if he hasn't just shoved it down my throat already.  
He mentioned it controlling my mind. I can't help but remembering that. It scares me, even though I hate to admit it, it scares me so much. _

_I don't want to think about it. I'd kind of like to just live in ignorance- if there's anything I've learned, it's better to not dwell on things. Like when people talk behind your back, or make fun of you- you can't dwell on those things, because they'll only bring you down._

_But this is much different than teasing, huh?_

_._

_._

_Dimentio's the only reason I can tell the days apart in this place. There's no light, except for when he opens the door, and no way to tell whether it's night or day. I sleep erratically now. This darkness makes me uneasy.  
I remember I used to be afraid of the dark when I was a kid, but I've outgrown it now. Kind of._

_._

_._

_It's boring in here. There is nothing to do but write and wait for him to come back. I walked before, but I haven't had anything to eat or drink- I can barely move now. _

_It's strange; I walked the length of this room again and again-10 paces each way- but the walls… _ _There is a small hole in one corner of the room, for me to use, but other than that, I couldn't feel any cracks, or bumps, or anything on these walls. This floor is rocky and rough, but the walls are as smooth as silk. I couldn't find any knobs or hinges or anything. _

_It's like I'm in a pit. But he comes in through a door- how can he when there is no door!_

_._

_._

_My stomach feels like it's eating my backbone-and my tongue feels like a swollen piece of flesh in my mouth. I never thought someone could be this thirsty._

_I remember reading long poem a while back, something about a sailor and an albatross. The name escapes me, but I remember, as punishment for killing an alba__tross, the sailor and his crew were sentenced to seven days without any water. Water water everywhere, nor any drop to drink. The __sailor- __mariner, now I remember-saw a ship on the horizon, and bit his arm to drink the blood and quench his thirst, so he could alert the rest of the crew._

_I hope I don't get that desperate._

_._

_This place is quiet. I wish there was some noise._

OoO

**Just for clarification, this is the second chapter. He waited a week to write again. **

**Have a nice day! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

_Day 8_

_I don't know why, but he was furious today. Dimentio stalked in and slammed me against the wall with one hand, screaming something. A ball of purple and yellow light appeared in his outstretched hand and he threw it at my chest, then slammed me across the room, into another wall, again, and again, and again. He kept hitting me with those things, and no matter how I tried, I couldn't dodge them. I wasn't fast enough, and I just didn't have the energy._

_He was smiling the entire time. That's what freaks me out the most. I think it was forced, but that's probably wishful thinking- that smile took up nearly his entire face, it stretched so far. I could see every one of his teeth. His eyes … Grambi, they were so angry. Just the memory of it sends shivers up my spine. That was an anger that could kill, and I'm surprised it didn't kill me.  
I didn't see one trace of empathy in those eyes. No guilt, or anything, just. . . that anger. '_

_There's a sizeable burn on my chest, and a lot more from my stomach to my back. He mostly aimed for my torso. My clothes aren't pretty - my shirt's barely wearable.  
I can't remember screaming, but I must have- my throat feels like it's been used as a scratching post. _

_It's not that bad compared to these burns though, these burn ache and I can see a cover of blisters over a few of them. They look angry and red and just awful.  
I just hope they don't get infected or anything._

_._

_._

_._

_What made him so angry__?_

_I can't remember doing anything to provoke him. He hasn't given me the chance to. He comes in, asks me the question and tells me the day, then leaves. When I say anything to him (before he leaves, that is) he just ignores it. And I've told him I wouldn't swallow that seed thing since day one. He can't be angry about that. He would've attacked me after I said no the first time. Not now. It doesn't make since._

_I've just realized something- He didn't ask me today. He just told me the day and left- he said nothing about that seed. Not a word.  
No, I don't think it was me.  
But then, who was it? Who made him so mad; what did they do? He's been so calm and cheerful, not at all angry or crude, like most…. Well, I don't know if he's a villain, but he's some sort of psychopath- a normal person doesn't kidnap someone, or burn them with magic, or starve them. _

_I though nothing could affect him._

_._

_._

_I just hope that whoever it is, they don't make him that mad again. There's no telling what he'll do to me._

OoO

**Fixed the other chapters so they had the appropriate breaks between the paragraphs. It makes it better to read.**

**Have a nice day! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

_Day 9_

I'm on fire. Grambi, it feels like I'm on fire, even though there's blood running down my back and I'm hot and sweaty and I think I'm crying too. Grambi. ?

I can barely read that writing. I think my hand is shaking. Grambi, I'm shaking, I am. It's like I've got the chills or something. HA. I'm burning up and shivering too.

I think yesterday, he was just warming up. Like in Mario karting- when the good kart racer gets in last place. He'll cruise around the first two laps, collecting items and watching the racers ahead of him, but when that third laps comes, he'll give it all he has. He'll throw banana peels and red and green shells, knock everyone aside with his power stars and Bullet Bills, and when he finally comes to number 1, he'll pull out that blue shell, just before the other racer passes the finish line, and bash that guy's dreams in, then cross the finish line laughing in glory.

H

.

.

I need to calm down- I'm rambling. No use in saying otherwise, huh? Suppose I should just write it out already. I read somewhere it makes you feel better to tell someone. Something _**I**_

Grambi, my hand is shaking so bad.

When he came in today, he had a happy expression on his face, and he picked me up and threw me against the wall. He wasn't angry this time. He was happy. And he stayed happy through that entire thing.

Metal chains snapped around my wrists and ankles, and they were tight. I've got little marks where they dug into my skin.  
Dimentio said that "Today we're going to get serious, like prisoners who see hope for escape!", and then he laughed that laugh. He pulled out a knife from the folds of his cloak, and ran his thumb across the edge. It was a regular kitchen knife- I remember because it looked like the ones we have at home.  
He said something, and then grinned at me.

It's funny. I can remember nearly every other word he said, but that one sentence just escapes me. It might have been the way he said it-he crooned it, and I could see a sharp glint in his eye, like a sliver of steel- or maybe the sight of that knife, that was right out of our kitchen drawers. But I can't remember what he said then. I was staring at that knife.

Then he slashed the blade across my chest.

It felt like fire, and I know I screamed, because when I stopped, he leaned in really close. I could feel his breath in my ear, and I could smell it- crisp and minty. Like he had just brushed his teeth.

And he asked me if I'd swallow that damn seed.

.

I don't know how long he kept doing it, but he just kept slashing and slashing, again and again. There's lines of blood all across the cell; it just kept spreading, following in the cracks.

I still can't understand why I kept saying no. It was like it was stuck on my tongue. I tried to say yes. It almost came out one time. I got to the e and then my head started shaking, back and forth, like I was having a seizure, left and right, and he cut me again. Eventually, he just stopped asking.

I'm shirtless now. It's just in tatters on the floor. There's blood in my mouth, and it's not so dry any more. I've tied my overall straps together, and then hooked them around my waist. It's not that cold in here, but I still don't want to lose what's left of my clothes.

B

R

E

A

T

H

I keep forgetting to breath. It feels like my throat is closing in on itself. I

I want to write that I wish it would, but I can't. I want to live. I want to get out of this thing alive. I want to shake hands with my brother, and tell him that I love him; I want to hug Daisy and tell her that I love her too. I even think I want to go and finally punch Waluigi in the nose, and finally stand up for myself.

I just want to go home.

_OoO_

**And it begins.  
It gets better as it goes on, believe me. **

**Have a nice day! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

_Day 11_

_My hand isn't shaking that much anymore. It finally stopped. I don't know why, considering today's visit but at least my writing is legible, now. I looked at yesterday's entry, and it looks like chicken scratch.  
Can I even say yesterday, I wonder_? _I can't actually say if it happened yesterday, or not. Could have happened a week ago, and I wouldn't know the difference. Time blurs together, and I suppose when you get right down to it, it really doesn't matter at all. _

_I was asleep when he came in today, and he woke me up by pouring water on my face. I opened my eyes, and he was just standing above me, grinning. "Thirsty?" He asked me, then giggled, shaking the bottle of water mockingly._

_He left the water when he left, so I have that. I'm starving though._

_Today it was shocks. He chained me up on the wall again, and used his magic. I've still got a metallic taste in my mouth, and my arm's numb from where he was sending the electricity through it. _

_He asked me that question again. _

_My back still hurts, but it's better. He didn't heal it like yesterday, so it still stings, but the pain isn't as bad. He took out the glass shards. It's not going to get infected._

_._

_I miss my brother._

_._

_You know, Daisy and I were going to be couple- boyfriend and girlfriend. I was going to ask her, when….  
That day we went off to Bowsers castle was a Saturday wasn't it_? _I'm not sure anymore. Peach had called us the day before, told us to come by her castle in a few days for lunch. Or a picnic, was it_? _I'm … juse not really sure._

_You would think I'd hold on to those memories like a lifeline, but… they don't really seem to matter that much anymore. They're almost. . . insignificant now. I do remember I was worried, nervous because Daisy was going to be there._

_._

I remember something- the first time I met her. I was scared out of my mind. She was dressed up in her sportswear, with her hair up in a ponytail, and her tank-top . . . it was cut really low. We were partners in tennis- I think Mario had met her before, but back then, I had preferred to stay at home instead of go on adventures, or attend those formal parties Peach always liked to host.  
(I hate those parties.)

_She walked straight up to me and stuck out her hand, smiling like we'd been best friends forever, and introduced herself.  
I stuttered like a fool. I'm sure she thought me one by the end of the day- I missed every ball because I was too busy looking at her. But even so, at the end of the tournament she came over, patted me on the back, and said we'd win the next one, with a big smile on her face. _

"_Maybe we can practice together sometimes, hey stud?" I can still remember her saying that because my face heated up like a light bulb. Mario still swears my nose was glowing. _

_One day I'll see them again. I swear I w_

HES HERE

OoO

**Gah. I think I forgot to upload. Well, either way, here's the next chapter. **

**Have a nice day! :)**


	6. Chapter 6

Day 15

I passed out. Didn't get to write.

So tired.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

He broke my legs.  
I remember everything. I can't help remembering everything. It sticks out crystal clear in my mind, and I wish it didn't- where's that time old story of "I remember a crash, and then woke up in the hospital"? That's how it is in the books and movies, with all the trauma victims - why can't that that happen with me?!

He had a hammer in one hand- one of those metal working hammers, with a pointed head, and a flat head. The neck was painted blue, and the handle was black, the foam handle kind. In his other hand was a clear plastic bag of nails. They were long, and rusted. The tips weren't sharp. They were round, and dull. I can see that clearly.

I don't think I'll forever forget that.

The door was slammed open this time. It bounced off the wall with a bang and he walked towards me, that smile stretching his face like putty. Before I could do anything, I was snapped up to a sitting position, and my back was slammed against the wall. My legs were stretched out in front of me.

He sat down by my left leg first, and set hammer and nails down. He flicked his wrist- a knife appeared in it. It was the same one from before. Dimentio set to cutting off my pant leg. He hummed, and ignored all the questions I asked him.

When it was all cut off, up to my thighs, he tossed the denim to the side and then took off my shoes, throwing them aside too. He picked up the hammer and hoisted it in his hand a few times, twisting it so the pointed side was facing the floor.  
Then Dimentio looked up and smiled at me. "Let's get started then, hm?"

And he broke my ankle. Then my calf, then my knee, and then he went back and carefully pulverized each bone into dust. He moved over to my other leg and did the same thing, moving up and up and breaking each bone until he reached my knee. I passed out as when he slammed that hammer down on my knee, and I'm glad I did, O Grambi I'm glad I did. O

When I woke again, he was still there, same place, same expression. I slept all through the day, He told me. It was the fourteenth, now. We got to start anew, He told me. He forced me to drink some sort of purple liquid.  
It would help me stay awake, he told me.  
He hammered those nails into each space between my toes, and then made a line of them all the way up to my knees on each leg.  
Then he left. He waved too, like we friends just saying goodbye for a short time.

I didn't sleep at all, and o the pain I couldn't move, the pain was so bad. If I twitched, it sent a bolt of pain through my legs so bad it made me scream. The time dragged on as quickly as a snail. After a while, I had to use the bathroom but I couldn't! It was so far away, I tried, I tried, but I couldn't, it hurt too much.  
It was a, wrenching, animalistic pain, deep down in my bones that I think nothing could've touched. I would've given anything for some sort of painkiller, but I think they wouldn't even have touched that kind of pain.

It was a relief when he came back. I knew he was going to hurt me, but him returning meant an end to THIS pain, if only to replace it with some new pain.

He sat down again, and then, slowly pulled those nails out with his fingers. He pulled them back, and forth. He drew it out, and I screamed until I was hoarse.  
But afterwards, he healed up my legs. I knew he would- I don't know how, but he had to, eventually. It hurt like everything as he did, but I could move them a little when he finished.

Before he healed me though, he asked me that question. That stupid question, that same question, he hasn't been asking me these past few days, but he did then after pulling out each of those long bloody nails and setting them down all in a line in front of me like he was showing them off showing off how much pain he could cause me with those those those

.

.

.

I look down, and I can see the round, bulging scars from where he hammered those nails in. There are lines, here and there from where bone poked through the skin. It hurts to walk. My knees look lumpy and misshapen too. I'm scared to try and bend them.

I'm going to try to sleep. I don't want to spend hours looking at these ugly things. It'd be better to just drift off. In my dreams, he can't hurt me. I never have nightmares.  
You can't get hurt in dreams.

OoO

**My favorite chapter. Mean, I know, but I just love torturing poor Luigi.**

**Have a nice day! :)**


	7. Chapter 7

_Day 16 _

_Today was better, I think. He whipped me again. It hurt, but definitely not as much__**.**__as it did when he_

_I think he was almost taking it easy on me. There were no glass shards this time. No metal on the end. It still stings like crazy._

_He left me a pair of pants, by the way. He pinched my cheek and said "We wouldn't want you to lose your precious dignity, hmm?" and then laughed.  
I think he broke the skin with those nails.  
They're dirty and scratchy, but I put them on any way. It's better than going naked. It took me a while to get into them, though. __My knees_

_._

_._

_I remember Mario hurt his knee a while back.__  
__It was during a kart race; he was in first place, and someone sent a blue shell towards him. It hit him while he was going over the bridge, and it threw him off- he fell out of his kart. The Lakitu brought up a limp body instead of a kart. I can't remember if I even finished the race; I stopped and went out running to him. There was a piece of metal stuck through his leg. Blood was soaking through his overalls, and Grambi, it scared me._

_The medic said that he was lucky we had such quick medical services available. It had torn through the ligament and bone in his knee; if they hadn't been able to get to him as quick as they did, the mushrooms wouldn't have been able to heal all the damage. He would be walking with a limp for the rest of his life, or worse. _

_I remember Peach nearly died a few years back. Her kart slipped on a banana peel and flipped upside down. They had her in the hospital for a few days- her skull had cracked, and Super Mushrooms take a while to repair bone- and Toadsworth had such a fit over it. He wanted to stop Mario Karting all together- had a petition going, meetings with the council, everything. But of course, Peach eventually recovered, and he dropped it.  
I don't blame him for trying to stop it. Most of us participating are human- we're all so fragile. A hammer can break our bones; prevent us from ever walking again. Toads? They can get hit with hammers, bricks, anything, and just walk it off. It's the same with nearly all other species in the Mushroom Kingdom. _

_But us humans can just be put out of commission by most anything. Take a knife and throw it at us and we're probably dead, or at least close to it. Take a hammer and hit us with it, and we're probably on the ground, screaming with our bones broken.  
I've read somewhere that human bones are supposed to be as strong as steel. That must be a lie. _

_._

_._

_It's official. I can't bend my legs. My knees don't even look like knees anymore, they're lumpy. But they're firm. Like everything is in its place, or that it healed where it was when he broke it. _

_._

_I hate this. I hate this so much._


	8. Chapter 8

_Day 17_

_He was angry again today.  
The door opened, and he hit me with one of those purple and yellow balls straight in the chest. Then he threw me around again. He broke my arm- not my writing one- and my ankle this time. The both swelled up, and my ankle is purple and black. I set them both. It hurt more than it did when he broke them, but I managed. I don't know how._

_._

_._

_It's quiet in this place._

_._

_._

_I wonder what Mario's doing. __I hope he's looking _

_No, I don't. I don't want him to look for me. If he looks for me, he might find me, and then Dimentio will get him. I don't want that. Anything but that. _

_I don't want Mario to ever have to go through the things I've been through here. _

_Grambi, if you exist, please. Never let Dimentio catch Mario. Please._

_._

_._

_._

_I have picture stuck in my mind. It's when my arm was broke._

_He slammed me against the wall and my arm was underneath me. There was a small _CRACK _and o the pain. I looked down at my arm and it looked like a broken stick; it was bent back, right near the elbow. It didn't look right. It didn't really look like an arm any more, it looked like a fleshy tube with a hand stuck at the end. The bone was pressing against the flesh, and there was blood and pain and it just looked so abnormal, so wrong. An arm isn't supposed to look like that. So immobile, like a broken stick or __a__ a splintered piece of wood. So bloody. It just isn't. _

_It just isn't._

_._

_._

_I think it's ridiculous. No, it is ridiculous- That, that one moment, sticks in my mind above all else. I can remember the hammer slamming down on my knee, I can remember the nails poking out of the spaces between my toes-my foot looking like some awful weapon used in horror movies, so lumpy and throbbing- I remember each and whissssss of the whip as it hissed through the arm and cracked against my spine, I remember each slash of the knife as it flashed through the air and sliced through my skin_

_But that one image. I see it in my minds eye, and I can't get rid of it._

_._

_._

_._

_It was just an arm. Why do I keep seeing it?_

.

.

Please, Grambi. Please.

OoO?

**Not really happy with this chapter, but I think it turned alright. What do you think?**

**Have a nice day! :)**


	9. Chapter 9

Day 26

I did something bad. I did something really bad.

But first I need to sleep.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

_I spit in his face. _

_He's kept me awake for a long time- nine days, I think. I'm not sure. I need to get this down before he comes back ; I need to write down all that's happened to me. I think if I don't, no one ever know. I think I'm going to die here._

_He had me on the wall again, and he had the knife. I think he was going to cut me again. He leaned in really close, so close I could smell his breath again- minty fresh- and he was grinning like a madman and I just couldn't take it. I don't know why, but I was angry. So angry.  
So I spit in his face and told him that he deserved to die a slow, painful death in hell.  
He stood there for a moment, like he couldn't believe what I had just done- I couldn't really believe it either, to tell the truth- and then he started laughing. Like it was the funniest thing he had ever heard. He wiped the spit of with the back of his hand and told me, happily, that I was going to regret what I did. _

_He took me down from that wall and slammed me against the floor, and metal bands clasped over my wrists and ankles- the kind of restraints you see in on big steel tables. Autopsy tables, is what I thought about.  
He sat down beside me, and he brought out that hammer. The metal working hammer, with one pointy side, and one flat side, with the blue neck and the foam handle.  
I just started screaming. I screamed and I screamed and he broke each of my ribs, carefully, slowly, methodically, and with that grin on his face. When he finally broke all of them, he set the hammer down with a small CLICK and looked me straight in the eye. "Well, now we have to set them, don't we?" And he tilted his head, so damn innocent and said, "Feel free to scream. It'll make you feel better." And he set each and every last one, and no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't pass out._

_When he finished, he looked my stomach and poked and prodded it all over and pressing down until I'd scream, nodding and 'hmm'ing like some doctor. "Well, you don't have too many scars here, do you?" He said, pressing down one of my ribs. "We'll just have to fix that, hmm?" _

_He pressed and pressed until the rib broke again, and then he worked it around until the bone started pressing against the skin. And then he pushed and prodded until it poked through, and then he pulled it out my rib, and he showed it to me, all _bloody with a little bit of skin on the jagged edge of it.

I passed out then. It wasn't because of the pain, though it that horrific, it was the sight of that rib, that one rib, bone white and blood red, with that little bit of skin at the end of it.

I woke up a while later, and of course he was still there, same place, same smile. He brought out that purple liquid from before. He told me to swallow it. I refused. He held my nose until I opened my mouth, and then poured it down my throat and I nearly choked, and I wish I did.

He didn't remove the rest of my ribs. He cut my stomach with that rib. I screamed but it didn't stop him, it never stops him. I think he was drawing things. I'm too scared to look and see what he made.

Then, he told me to stay- AS IF I COULD'VE RAN!- and went out and brought in a great big fire pit. We have one at home, you know. A great big fire pit with two little legs underneath where we sit out when the weathers nice and cook marshmallows and I always burned mine, I always did, and he burned me with the great big poker like we use at home to move the wood and he put it on my chest and it BURNED like when I burn my marshmallows, and it was red hot when it touched my chest and it hissed a little and steam rose up and my skin turned black like the marshmallow skin and he poked it. He poked it and then he pulled it off and it slid off just like that marshmallow skin. I keep remembering that. Just like that marshmallow skin. It was black and cracked and it was red underneath just like that marshmallow skin.

The chains came. He strung me up in the middle of the room, like he did when he whipped me. My broken arm was unset and there was a little POP and it was ABNORMAL  
He put little sharp spikes underneath me and then lowered me until my weight was fully on those spikes and then, he left me to hang, left to hang with my weight on those sharp spikes  
I don't know how long, but it was much longer than normal. I think days. I think, I think but IT HURT. if I pulled my feet up and off the knives, my arm and shoulders screamed and If I put my feet on those things, they cut them and they dug into them and IT HURT, IT HURT, O GRAMBI IT HURT

My feet were bleeding when he finally came back.

He snapped his fingers, and the chains disappeared and my arm went POP when I hit the floor. I think it broke again. He stood there and told me it was my fault. I should never slight him, never do that. I didn't want the consequences. I didn't

He said it was the twenty-sixth day. And then he left again, with my feet bleeding and me bleeding and the pain swallowing me up

I see him. He's here.

OoO

**A bit rushed, now that I look over it, but I'm still determined to see this story through. **

**Have a nice day!:)**


	10. Chapter 10

Day 27

His eyes look like little moons. I never noticed that before. Ha ha. I write this as he stands over me, with moon eyes and a moon smile. It's funny.

.

.

.

He didn't do anything. He gave me another bottle of water, then left. He looked me in the eyes the entire time, and he told me that he'd let me rest, that he didn't want me going into shock. He laughed.

I've realized it now. He's crazy. He's insane. Mad, off his rocker, his cheese has long since slid off his cracker.

Dimentio. His name makes sense now. Dimentio, Dementia. Ha ha.

I'm stuck here, being his little torture doll. Just my luck, huh? I wonder if that seed even does anything. Maybe it's just a test. Maybe it's just something to show when I break; when I take that seed, I'm broken, and he'll laugh in my face, and tell me what a fool I am.

I'll never swallow that stupid thing. He'll have to shove it down my throat. I'll never break. I'll never give him the satisfaction. Never never never never. I can't. I can't.

_._

_I have to escape. But escape's impossible, isn't it? With all the cuts on your feet and that broke ankle and misshaped knees, you can't escape. You can't even stand up. You have to crawl to piss and the only thing you can do now is write how angry you are, write how everything is unfair how it's just your luck and that you won't break.  
But you know you're gonna break. You know you've tried to say yes, but he wouldn't let you; you would've swallowed _ANYTHING _last week if it would've stopped that pain. In the end you're just as weak as when you came in here. Where's that talk of escape when he was breaking your legs? Where's that __talk of escape when he was pulling your rib out and drawing in your skin_

Shut up.

_._

_._

_I looked at my stomach. He drew a sun. A smiley face. A flower. A bunch of scribbling. It looks so bad. Crusted over with blood, like everything is in the place. Crusted over with blood and just plain filth. It smells like I think death would smell like. _

_._

_My water has run out. I know I should have saved it, but I was so thirsty. Now there's only a little in the bottle, just a sip at the bottom. I hope I get some more. I hope I get some food too. I haven't had food yet.  
I should be dead._

_.  
I SHOULD BE DEAD._

_._

_He didn't put the rib back. _

OoO

**Eh. This story isn't getting much attention, so I know it isn't that good. I'm gonna try to finish it though, so at least I can say I didn't give up on it…**

**Have a nice day! :) **


End file.
